We went to the arboretum.It was almost winter, and the blushOn your cheeks made you look youngerThan you had in a long time. I was hoping the maple leavesCould breathe fire back into your eyes,And heal the sickness nestledDeep within your bones. The...
Once a yearOr three or seven years,I come back to you,Like the waves being pulled back to seaOn the shadowy Shandong beaches You took me to when I was a kid.Now you speak a foreign language.It’s all garbled to me, like foam,Or the racket of washing...

